


Worse

by TheBlackMagister



Series: Tattoos [4]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Fluff, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Minor Character Death, Negan Needs A Hug, No Smut, Past Character Death, just like everybody else, maybe a little angsty but, not for long, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-12 04:43:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11154492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlackMagister/pseuds/TheBlackMagister
Summary: Rick's sick. Negan spills.





	Worse

**Author's Note:**

> this is kind of short and kind of pointless but thats okie

Rick’s fucking sick.

God, Negan can only imagine he himself is just as annoying when _he’s_ sick; but fuck. And it’s not that Rick complains a lot – he complains, but not overly so – but he refuses _fucking everything_. He won’t take any medication and Negan practically has to shove food and water down his throat. He keeps insisting he’s fine, despite the fact he can’t stop coughing, and the fact that he’s had to call in sick for about four days because half the time he’s vomiting, and god damnit he just won’t let Negan fucking take care of him.

Negan would never hurt Rick. Not ever. But for the love of God sometimes he wants to, if just to force the guy to take medicine. He swears up and down that it will make Rick feel better but fucking hell Rick just _won’t_ , says it’s unnecessary. The younger man’s like a goddamn child, digging his heels in against anything that makes life fucking easier, and Negan’s fucking frustrated as hell.

“So, you know, I was saying to Tara,” Rick’s saying, dragging Negan out of his thoughts. “We keep going over to that house but there’s no signs of what they’ve accused him of! But people keep swearing they’ve seen him-” Rick breaks off, coughing, and Negan puts his head on the table in frustration. He doesn’t even bother trying to get Rick to take the cold medicine anymore. After a moment the coughs ease, and then Rick sits gingerly in the chair across from Negan.

Rick doesn’t say anything, not at first. He nervously rests his hand on top of Negan’s, and Negan takes a deep breath. There’s no reason to blow up at Rick. None. Nada. Not one fucking reason.

“Are you okay?” Rick asks, voice quiet. Negan takes a deep breath.

“Yeah. Yeah, fine. I just.” Negan inhales again, sitting back up and running a hand down his face. “I wish I could get you to take the damn medicine, if I can’t get you to rest.”

“Negan..” Rick frowns, biting his lip. “I don’t need it.”

“But you-!” Inhale. Exhale. Calm the fuck down. Negan closes his eyes, pressing on them with his fingers, trying to ease the frustration.

“It’s just a little cold, Negan.” Rick tilts his head a little.

“But it could get worse!” Negan bursts out, and he stands up, unable to keep himself from pacing. “A _little cold_ could turn into something so much worse, Rick! You could – you – I mean, it could turn into – I don’t fucking know, pneumonia, or worse! But you’re too _fucking stubborn_ to take a little bit of goddamn cold medicine, and God knows how much more stubborn you’ll get if it gets worse, since that seems to be how you do shit!”

Rick looks hurt, and fuck, that wasn’t supposed to happen. But it feels good to get it out. He’s breathing hard, shaking all over, and fuck. Tears are burning the back of his eyes, and for fuck’s sake he doesn’t want to cry in front of Rick but he just might.

“Negan,” Rick says, real soft. “Baby. This isn’t like you. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing, I’m fine.” Negan turns away, leaning against the counter. His hands are shaking and while he kind of wants coffee – or a beer – he’s pretty sure he’d drop it. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to..”

Rick doesn’t answer. Instead he stands, approaching Negan slowly, and rests one hand on the older man’s back. Negan stiffens but doesn’t pull away, and after a pause Rick wraps both arms around him from behind. Negan makes a choked sort of sound, bowing his head.

“Come on. Come sit down,” Rick soothes softly. He manages to coax Negan to the couch in the living room, getting the larger man to sit, and Rick settles in his lap.

“I’m sorry,” Negan mumbles into his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to snap at you, baby. I love you. I’m sorry.”

“I know.” Rick runs a hand through Negan’s dark hair, the other stroking slowly up Negan’s back. “What’s wrong? Talk to me, babe.. that’s a big reaction over a cold.”

“I know. I know, I’m sorry, I just..” Negan takes a deep breath, sitting back. Rick shifts to face him, cupping his jaw and thumbing over his cheeks. “My.. my wife. Before she.. uhm. She - she got sick. Just a cold, she said. And then all of a sudden she woke up and she couldn’t breathe, she was choking, and I took her to the hospital and they said it was cancer and there was nothing they could do anymore, she was too far in. It was.. so fast. One day she was fine, just, a little coughing, and then she couldn’t breathe, and within a couple of months she.. she was gone. And I..”

He cuts off with a choked whine. Rick doesn’t say anything; just leans into him, providing comfort in the weight and warmth. Negan’s holding onto him – not crying, at least not yet, just buried against his shoulder.

“I don’t want to lose you, Rick,” Negan whispers into Rick’s shirt. “I can’t.. I can’t – I need you.”

Rick hums softly, kissing the top of his head. “I know, baby. I’m not going anywhere, though, I promise. I’ll take the medicine if that’s what you want, but it’s really not that bad, I swear. It’s getting better.”

Negan lets out a shaky sigh and nods, running his fingers down over Rick’s spine. Rick stands up and disappears into the kitchen for a moment, returning with two of the pills and a glass of water. Negan pulls the younger man back down into his lap and nuzzles against Rick’s shoulder as Rick downs the medication, with only a little bit of coughing.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Rick promises, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Negan’s mouth. “Take me to bed?”

“Okay,” Negan mumbles, and almost on auto-pilot he stands and carries Rick upstairs. Rick’s warm – not fever warm, just comforting, clinging to Negan like a koala. God _fucking_ damn it, how is he supposed to let go of Rick ever? He sinks into bed, laying Rick out next to himself, and lets out a shaky sigh as Rick cuddles into his side.

“I’m not leaving,” Rick says stubbornly into his chest. “Never ever ever, I promise.”

“I’m holding you to that.” Negan says back, rolling over and wrapping around Rick, his face buried against the top of Rick’s head. Rick laughs, softly.

“If anybody could force me to stay alive it’s probably you. I’m in good hands.”

Negan grins a little at that, running one hand down Rick’s back. “Damn straight.” Then he pauses, lifting his head and glancing at the clock. Rick frowns.

“What?”

“Shit,” He mutters, rolling over and swinging his legs out of bed again. “I forgot to go pick up the kids.”

Rick stares at him for a long moment and then begins to laugh. He can’t help grinning, too; Rick’s laugh is about the sweetest damn thing on the planet. He tugs his shoes on and stands, smiling at his.. whatever Rick is. Suddenly he’s overwhelmed by the fact that Rick _isn’t_ his yet and god damn it, he needs that in his life.

“Will you go out with me?” He says, moreso blurting it out, and he doesn’t _mean_ to, it just sort of happens. Rick’s still grinning at him, though, and dear God there’s no end to the affection in the younger man’s blue gaze.

“I kind of thought we already were.”

Negan chuckles, running a hand through his hair, and he leans to press a soft little kiss to Rick’s mouth. “That just makes it official.”

Rick just grins.


End file.
